The Wanderer
by SoulGamesInc
Summary: "We've been here before, and we'll be here again." - The story of a wayward sellsword and his traveling companions as they try to survive in the harsh lands of Essos and beyond; with no shortage of troubles. An adventure story that may develop into the book events with time but aims to focus on the more obscure areas of things.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire by George RR Martin, I do however own the non-canon character(s) of this story. This is purely a work of my personal enjoyment so I ask you to not expect anything worthy of the great GRRM. I fully welcome criticism/suggestions/questions. The story will eventually be finished (I hate leaving things unfinished) but I have no real schedule. Please review as I'd love useful feedback/thoughts about the story.

* * *

 **Introduction:** I started this to vent when a girlfriend broke up with me and I finish it the same way, so forgive me if I reflect a little in certain parts; but it has given birth to a story I'm content to explore - that of Will and Vis (and friends) as they go on adventures across the corners of the world and try to scrape together a living as best they can. I start this with Will ending a "relationship" in what might sound extremely edgy - but I've been hurt, so cut me some fucking slack internet!

It's only _part_ of the Prologue. Future chapters (if people like the characters/concept at all) will vary and be somewhat like the Duck and Egg books in terms of tone; only in Essos for the most part and maybe playing into the plot of the books or maybe not. It's mostly a "for fun" story.

Let me know if you want to see more of these characters adventures. It's down to the reviews if I do more.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Prologue**

"Ale tastes like dirt." A man commented with a scowl as he gulped down more of the thick ale-like substance.

The mans friend rolled his eyes, scoffing. "And yet you drink it still." The two sat alone at a corner table in an inn, one that had seen better days from the looks of things. The innkeeper kept a nervous eye on his other and far louder customers from behind the apparent safety of his oaken bar. The two men in the corner remained unnoticed.

"I'd eat horse if I were hungry enough, Will." The man replied, emptying his cup of the dirt colored ale.

"Those are our men." The man known as Will said, eyes darting. The stale bread in front of him remained uneaten as he focused on the task at hand.

"You're changing the subject."

Will ignored his friend, watching the men in question. They were the loud lot across the inn, those under the watchful gaze of the innkeep who made great efforts to keep his daughter out of view. "We've delayed long enough," he declared with a quick swig from his own cup. "they are good and drunk..."

"Some honey would've done the trick, really countered the bitter-"

"Brandon!" Will snapped at his friend.

He held up his hands in mock surrender, moving to grab Will's uneaten bread, never one to let food go to waste.

Will got up from his seat steadily, leaving Brandon behind to happily finish up the stale bread. Making his way across the room the stench of booze grew ten fold. These were indeed the men they were looking for. The innkeep eyed Will cautiously, knowing no good would come from whatever this dark haired stranger with deep indigo eyes had planned; as he stroke over to the troublemakers with clear conflict on his face, almost seeming hesitant; or eager to be done and gone.

"And then I told her, now _that's_ a sword!"

The loud table erupted in laughter at the story, or joke, or whatever it was they were discussing. Nothing civil, Will knew.

They noticed him after a few moments. "What the fuck you want!?"

"Charming fellow." Brandon walked up beside Will with a smirk on his lips.

"I'm not paid to be nice, dwarf!"

Again the table erupted into laughter, and Brandon narrowed his eyes.

"Who you calling short you ugly drunk?!"

The laughter died at that and with it the diplomatic approach Will was hoping to have taken.

"What did you just say?" The ugly drunk, whom in fairness to Brandon was not an attractive individual, with a large and rather poorly healed scar across his temple that seemed to have been inflicted by a meat cleaver... or something to that effect. The man was balding, with only a small patch on fur left on his head.

"I called you an ugly drunk." Brandon explained, crossing his arms and smiling down at the man. Pride beaming at his genius choice of words.

Silence. And then the ugly drunk grasped his table knife and lunched outward towards Brandon's face, intent on giving him a scar of his own.

"Ahhhrrggg!" The man screamed as Will grabbed his wrist mid-lunge, and twisted hard.

Brandon pulled drew his blade from its scabbard with reflexes akin to a far more sober man, holding it against the throat of the ugly drunks friend. "I wouldn't move if I were you." Brandon taunted the man, who's eyes darted to his friend still screaming in agony as Will twisted his arm onto the table with a thud.

"I have questions," Will explained calmly. "and you're going to give me answers."

"F- Fuck you!" The man replied, spitting on his attacker.

"Wrong answer." Another twisting motion and a loud *pop* caused the ugly drunk to scream.

"Ahhhrrrgggg!" His eyes went wide as his shoulder dislocated.

"Where is your boss?" Will asked, still absently calm as ever.

"He'll-" The drunks friend shouted only to have Brandon's steel pressed harder against his throat, enough for a trickle of blood to flow down the blade.

"In town!" The ugly drunk screamed. "At his house on fifth street!"

Will smiled, releasing the mans arm only to slam his head against the table with a thud.

"Any guarding the place?" Brandon asked now. "How many?"

"Twenty!" The man replied with a snarl, his voice somewhat muffled by the table.

"A lie." Brandon countered with an impatient shake of his head.

*thud* Will slammed the ugly drunks head into the table once more.

"Two!" The man cursed. "For fuck sake, he goes to be alone! He only posts two outside!"

Will released the man who proceeded to cradle his broken arm and stare up at his attackers.

"And the bitch?" Brandon asked again with narrowed eyes, a hint of something mad in those emerald pools.

"You're after the girl?" The ugly drunk asked, seemingly bewildered.

"The whore, more like." The drunks friend laughed as best he could muster without opening his neck.

Brandon however had other ideas. The man's laughter turned to gurgling as blood pooled and leaked from the open gash in his neck, hands madly trying in vain to cease the flow of blood and eyes wide from shock. "Thanks." Brandon muttered, wiping the blood from his longsword onto his grey cloak.

The ugly drunk, now alone as the life quickly faded from his friends eyes, processed to beg. "You'll let me go, right?"

"And why would we do that?" Will asked sincerely as if it was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"I-" The man hesitated. "I told you everything I-"

The mans life ended with a sharp snap, as Will grabbed the fools head and jerked with one quick motion.

"A quicker death than either deserved." Brandon commented, looking down at the two bodies. One on the flood in a pool of his own blood while the other, ugly fellow, rested soundly with his head on the table. It almost looked at if the latter was merely sleeping, if he didn't know better. "Fools."

"They confirmed what we knew." Will replied, his eyes betraying a hint of sorrow for a mere glance.

Brandon sheathed his blade. "We should move while it's still dark."

"G- G- Get out!" The voice of the innkeeper interrupted, grabbing both men's attention.

"Put that down old man." Brandon commented on the innkeeps rusty looking sword, no doubt given to him by some passing sellsword that hadn't the coin to pay for his drinks or food; so paid with his steel instead. Doubtless the man died somewhere shortly after leaving the inn. "We mean you no harm..."

"You killed them." The innkeep said, hesitantly lowering his sword.

"Aye, we did." Brandon looked back at the table. The pool of blood was twice it's size now. "You're welcome."

Will took a step forward, and the innkeep lifted his rusty blade once more to defend himself. "Here," Will held out a small pouch of coin for the old man. "for the drink and the damages. It should be enough I trust." The innkeep grabbed the bag, tested the weight, and lowered his sword. He gave a nod and left the matter there.

"He'll make a pretty profit from those bastards things too." Brandon added, as the two walked out of the inn.

"It didn't have to be like that." Will sighed. "You didn't have to-"

"So much for the diplomatic approach." Another voice rang, accompanied with a wide taunting smirk.

The voice belonged to one Klissa Frost. She leaned on the inns outer wall using a fine knife to peal an apple, in riding leathers that hugged her relatively boyish appearance with short black hair and a long face. "We got what we came for." It was Brandon to the defense, shrugging off Klissa's judging gaze.

"Oh?" She doubted, tilting her head slightly as she tossed the apple aside.

Brandon muttered "waste", eyeing the apple with a single bite roll into the dirt and muck.

"Fifth street, two guards." Will motioned with a nod of his head.

"Two?" Klissa scoffed. "And the whore is there? By the look on his face, I'd say so..."

Will stared at her, his face revealing nothing to those that couldn't see past the mask. Klissa was one of the few that could.

"Oh do shut up Kissa," Brandon offered with a wide smirk. "or you'll get wrinkles. Your beauty cant suf-"

He'd expected the knife pressured against his neck, in a flash, the silver engraved handle glinting in the corner of his eye. "Never." Klissa growled, more akin to wolf than women. "Call. Me. That." The knife pressed hard, but its target seemed unfazed. Still smiling. Wide and ever defiant.

"Frost!" Will snapped at her. "That's enough."

She smiled, removing the small thin blade with a swift flick of her wrist.

Brandon eyed his friend. "She wants me."

"Dead." Will offered with a shake of his head and a wary sigh. "Dead perhaps dear brother, but nothing more."

It was Will, as it always was, who pushed for the trio to move onward. Always a distraction. Always a hunt. Always a fight. Always some gods cursed nonsense for him to deal with. If it wasn't his brother and 'Lady' Frost trying to kill each other it was bandits or whores or, gods forbid, that one time with the elephants...

"I'll leave you two at the edge of town," he offered with a glance to the night sky. "and we'll move at sunrise."

"Fuck that." Brandon cursed, dismissing the notion entirely. "We're coming with you!."

"Bran-"

"No." Brandon refused to listen, strapping steel to his horses saddle.

"I'm doing this alone, brother."

"Piss off." Brandon snarled.

There was no talking to him like this, Will knew. Not that he'd be given a choice.

It was a short ride to the town about half an hours ride off from the roadside inn where one assumed the two men were looking for a free meal. Will highly doubted they planned on paying for that food. They really had done the man a favor now that he thought on it, not that he'd tell Brandon that, best not encourage him.

"The day they hanged black robin," Brandon began to sing in his gravelly voice as they rode down what was arguably a dirt path. "the air was clear it and still. The day they hanged black robin, the autumn ground was chill." Will wished, not for the first time in his life, that Brandon knew less depressing songs.

He opted to voice this opinion, knowing full well it would achieve nothing. He was an optimist. "Bard?"

Brandon cocked a brow, riding casually beside his brother. "Aye, peasant?"

Will rolled his eyes. "Care to play something cheery for once?"

"The smallfolk gathered in the square!" He now sang with greater levity, louder and full of sickeningly fake joy as thunder sounded above and the sky darkened. "The gallows there we set! Oh the smallfolk gathered in the square, the women never wept!" Will muttered a curse, he should've kept his mouth shut for once.

"The gods above all knew his crimes, the lord read off his list."

It was better with the depressing tone. Instead Brandon now sang in his mocking joyful tone, knowing it was pissing Will off.

"I hate you Bran." He cured, but the singing rider seemed unfazed by this genuine criticism.

"The gods above all knew his crimes, the mens hands balled to fists!"

Will tried to ignore him as best he could. He was doing it to spur him, a favorite pastime of the bastard and apparent brother. A true brother wouldn't subject him to such bloody torture, or so he hoped, cursing his fathers ghost for leaving him alone. He'd hope anything related to him by blood wouldn't be quite this annoying.

Brandon had his usual wide smirk on his lips, still singing. "His legs they kicked and jerked then slowed, the crowd not once did cheer." A bloody depressing song. "His legs they slowed then finally stopped, the crowd not once did jeer." He stopped over a small hillside that looked out at the small town.

The sun would be rising soon and a handful of nondescript tents with a few horses rested outside the towns wooden and fairly poorly maintained walls. Will counted six... eight... twelve men at a glance? They'd have to be dealt with they the guards were alerted after this was dealt with.

"I'll never mourn black robin," Klissa sang now, far darker, whatever joy taken from the song at knife point. "he killed my girl of four."

Will finished the song. "The day they hanged black robin, my son came home no more..."

* * *

It was a simple task making Brandon stay behind, once Frost threatened to take the mans jewels in his sleep; he cracked a joke and reluctantly wished his brother-in-arms luck - promising to be ready when he returned. Frost said nothing, offering a sad smile on her lips and a nod at his departure.

Will walked now beside a young girl with silver hair and calming grey eyes; glinting with obvious mischief.

"It's happening again."

He hated her sometimes. It would always be brief and passing before he'd remember how he loved her, but in rare moments; he wished things he shouldn't. One look at her innocent pleading smile would wipe away such thoughts in an instant, replaced by nothing but a longing to never again see her frown.

"I know." He'd tell her, not for the first-

"You've said that before."

Will sighed. This girl was too cleaver for her own good... and his too...

"I'm always right in the end." She smiled wide, proud to any who couldn't see past the bravado.

"Smart ass." Will muttered quietly to himself.

She smiled, truly this time.

"Poohead."

Will's lips twitched with hint of a smile. It was happy, before it wasn't...

"So!" She explained happily, clapping her hands.

He gave a nod, needing no words. Accepting.

The child, Visenya, wore a grin worthy of any hungry dragon. "Let's go!"

They walked into the small town uncaring for the eyes on them - striding with purpose - towards the place Vis wished to go but Will dreaded to. He'd lived in this village for months now, keeping largely to himself expect for those few left that he trusted; but could never wholly trust. He'd thought here would be different.

In the end it always seemed like the child knew better, knowing things her father denied; until it was too late.

He'd seen the signs. He'd known better, but turned a blind eye; praying to gods he didn't believe in for _this time_ to be different.

"Here we are." He said aloud, absently brushing his cloak aside to reveal the pommel of his sword over is shoulder.

Visenya muttered a simple "told you so" as Will moved a hand to his swords pommel and closed his fingers tightly around the worn leather with a wearily sigh; empty, defeated and void of emotion as he drew steel from the scabbard that was its rest, taking a single step forward, to bloody it once more.

Inside the small house - over the bodies of two slain guardsmen - they heard the heated breathes of two lovers, in the room furthest from them.

"Hello mother." Vis snarled at the women abed, judging with a burning fire in her now blood red eyes.

"No!" The women cried, wide-eyed now and afraid for her lovers life.

The man, his name unimportant, struggled to his feet in a desperate attempt to-

"You cant!" She pleaded, covering her apparent decency with bed covers and tears on her cheeks.

"Yes!" Vis smiled, wide and eager. She yearned for it. Her eyes burned brightly as she cheered. "Yes!"

Sunlight reflected off the blade as it fell in a flash, down on the nameless man. Ending months of torment.

"Yes," Will muttered under his breath, now more beast than man. "we can."

The nameless man had fallen back onto the bed, clawing at his opened neck in a desperately futile attempted to stop the flow of blood. He was dead. Nobody living could uncut that, try as the fool might; he'd die in mere moments. "You-" The women was wide-eyed and pale with fright. "You killed-"

"Do it father!" Vis snarled madly, eyes darting from the bloodied blade to the women that claimed to be her mother; still smiling wide.

He considered it. Some part of him thought she'd deserve it, to be punished as the man was. To hurt as they'd been...

"She hurt us!" Vis pleaded, finger pointed as if to accuse. "I warned you she would! I said so, I did!"

The women seemed to understand, pulling the covers further up as fear filled her heart. It would be a simple thing to-

"No." Will shook the thought away and buried it somewhere dark.

He wanted to. Gods, how his blood _burned_ to make her pay- but he was better than that. Wasn't he?

"No?" Vis seemed confused. Disappointed. The fire in her eyes flickered with doubt. "But she-"

He offered no argument, as the girl seemed to cool like hot steel in an instant as the blade was sheathed.

"Y- You-" The women stuttered, her once pristine white sheets socked in crimson and her face swelling with tears.

Will offered nothing but "Goodbye" as he turned, broken, away from the bed and another love. He could hear the women weep for her lost lover. Vis whistled a tune too happily to herself after spinning around on her heels to raise her middle finger at the sad women and offer a smug knowing smile.

A few passersby must have heard the commotion. Guardsmen arrived as they left the house, to see the slain bodies of the two guardsmen.

"Stop!" The lead guard commanded, yelling in a bastard dialect of High Valyrian.

Will stepped out to greet them with a bored sigh. The townsfolk gathered, to see him brought down.

"You have violated ours laws!" The guard captain strode towards him, unaware of his folly. These people thought him some common fool with a sword. They knew nothing. They didn't know him, beyond the name he used and the women he loved. "You are under arr-"

The guards words fell short and he staggered backwards, hand to his throat and eyes wide with shock.

The crowd collectively took a step back as even the guardsmen seemed surprised - their captain dead - his blood blooding as he twitched and choked. Will stood above him, dagger in hand; taken from his belt and now bloodied. He unsheathed his bloodied sword with one fluid motion as Vis stood by. Smiling.

Two fools stood in Will's way now as he readied himself to dodge the first strike, cutting through a spear shaft then the wielders throat with his back swing. The last guard cried out at the loss, raising his sword high. Will blocked the blow, following with a stab motion that pierced the fools stomach and caused him to cry out in pain. The guardsmen fell to his knees and Will slit his throat without a seconds hesitation.

He sheathed the blade, eyes darting around.

"Fools." Vis muttered with a scoff of dismissal. Too easy.

Will's hands were shaking, his breath rapid and his eyes darted madly.

"It's beautiful." The girl spoke, getting her fathers attention in a flash- all other thoughts fading.

She looked up at the sunrise with childlike innocence, her eyes a calm shade of grey. She seemed at peace.

"Are we leaving again?" She asked, looking up at him for answers that he didn't quite have. He never did.

"Yes." Will knew somebody would report this one way or another, for some price no doubt. This wasn't the first time he'd fled a town nor would it be the last. "We'll grab our things from the cache, then leave before the suns highest. The others are waiting for us and we're later than I'd hoped..."

Vis seemed to think on that, before accepting with a beaming and innocent smile.

"Ready for another adventure?" Will asked, mustering a well practiced smile for her sake.

"Yeah!" Vis cheered, laughing aloud now.

"Let's go then," he smiled, feeling sick to his soul.

At least the girl was happy.

That's all that mattered to him.

* * *

The others met him on the edge of town as planned, standing idle and impatient as Klissa paced back and forth with clear frustration and worry on her scowling face. They stood under an old oak tree with their horses prepared for what could be a long journey. They'd done this before.

"You!" It was, unsurprisingly, Klissa who stormed over to Will first- striking him around the head with her palm.

"Ouch," Will muttered half-hearted "that hurt..."

Vis silently giggled at the show of what she deemed to be affection.

"You're late!" Klissa scolded, hands on her hips and looking up at the man who stood heads taller than her.

"I'm fine, your concern is touching as always."

"And the girl?"

She glared at him. Will knew who she meant, as only she could know.

He didn't like to speak of it.

"The usual."

"Not to break up this touching reunion," Brandon cut in. "but the entire guard will be on us soon and I'd rather not-"

"We're going." Will jumped at the excuse to end Frosts questions and flee this place.

Frost mounted quickly her own horse to join the others.

"Where to? My father would take us back to the company, I'm sure of it..."

Frosts father. Ha, how quickly she seemed to forget that Will was the man who'd dragged his only daughter away on an adventure and never returned; without word or reason, even if she'd followed against his wishes and he'd no way of stopping her. Her father would flay him alive.

"You certainly," Will scoffed. "but not us I'd wager."

"There's always the Golden Company?"

Brandons suggestion was no less foolish, but only Will and Frost knew that; beyond the obvious. They'd fought the Gold before and lost.

"Anywhere that isn't here." Will decided quickly, eager to leave the town far behind them.

None augured with that. Their futures could be decided another time, in more relative safety than now; far from angry swords and people wanting them dead. That said people seemed to always end up wanting them dead, so Will didn't place too much hope in that...

"Hope." Vis scoffed at him as he rode, fast and hard besides his only friends.

There wasn't any hope left in his daughter. She was too guarded for it, from far too many knifes.

"We've been here before," she added. "and we'll be here again."


End file.
